Help
by evoix
Summary: When things go south for Fuze and Ying is the only one able to help, will they learn to get along? Shorter chapters with (hopefully) more frequent updates.
1. 1

_Shuhrat vaulted through the window, sprinting towards the injured woman faster than he'd ever ran before._

 _He set up his medical kit as he rolled her weak, limp body over onto her back, and recoiled at the amount of blood._

" _Shit…" he muttered, attempting to press down on the woman's wounds, but there was just too much shrapnel. It covered the entirety of her torso._

" _No…" Shuhrat said, in disbelief with himself. How could he let this happen?_

" _No, no, no, no! Please, no!" Shuhrat was begging, pleading to some unknown thing. He wasn't pleading to himself, as his attempts to slow the blood were futile, and he definitely wasn't pleading to the lifeless body in his arms._

" _This isn't my fault...no…" Shuhrat was beginning to cry. "I'm not a bad person...I would never do this…" However, the deed had already been done. He continued to cry, even scream, in denial._

 _Suddenly, the SDU team he had been working with burst through the door. "Shuhrat, what the hell?!" a short woman screamed. "What did you do?!"_

" _No...this isn't me...I would never do this…" Shuhrat continued, sounding almost deranged, refusing to accept the bloody reality that was in front of him._

" _Shuhrat!" the woman repeated._

" _Shuhrat!"_

"Shuhrat!" Timur shouted, slapping his hand on the older man's shoulder, breaking him from his trance. Shuhrat looked at him, his face wet with sweat and tears and his eyes filled with terror, but said nothing. The sniper let out a sad sigh. "It happened again, didn't it?"

Shuhrat gulped and nodded, breaking eye contact with Timur, instead gazing at the floor.

"It's getting worse, Shuhrat. This is the third time this week."

"Glazkov, I'm fine," Shuhrat denied, to the younger man's evident frustration.

"Shuhrat, I…" Timur paused under the weight of what he was about to say, and considered whether he should even do it. In the end, he decided it was in Shuhrat's best interest, and the worst thing he could do was reject. "...I think you should go see Siu about this."

"What?!" Shuhrat raised his voice more than he had intended to, and winced awkwardly. He was responding about as well as Glazkov had intended. "I can't talk to her about it. You know how I... _am_ around her."

"You say that because you never actually spend time with her. Who knows, it's been years since you've talked outside of missions," Timur tried to reason with him.

"No, but I've seen the way she looks at me...those eyes...so pretty, but so cold…" Shuhrat was slightly red at the thought of the woman, but he refused to budge on his point.

"Even if things don't go well, won't it be nice to have some closure?" the sniper made one final attempt. When the other man merely responded with a slightly contorted expression and looking at his own feet, Timur couldn't help but feel dejected. "Food for thought," he mumbled, standing up from Shuhrat's bedside. "The others and I are going to a cafe nearby for breakfast. Lera's coming with. You want to come?" Timur offered.

"Yeah, I guess," Shuhrat accepted, but quietly and with hesitation. After throwing on an olive hoodie, he and Timur went out to their car.

The drive was short, roughly 5 minutes, and they arrived at the cafe. They saw Alexsandr's ancient Lada sitting outside and assumed the others were already there, waiting.

The two who had just arrived exchanged greetings with the other three before sitting down.

"I want this one," Alexsandr said, pointing at an item on the menu and showing it to Lera.

"You're going to eat yourself out of house and home, Alex," Lera replied after looking at the item's cost. "You might have to start selling your Soviet surplus," she joked, earning chuckles from all but the eldest.

"Lera, how much have you had to drink? It's only, what, nine o'clock?" Maxim looked at his watch.

"What?"

"Well, it's not usual for you to be this funny when you're sober," the trapper smirked, laughing softly at his own joke, unaware of the hostile look he received from Lera. He was, however, _very_ aware of the swift kick in the shin.

Save for their initial light banter and the ordering of food, the Russians' table was surprisingly quiet. Almost painfully so, according to everyone except Shuhrat, who was perfectly content with silence. He was never really adept at socializing.

"I think Shuhrat should go see Siu for his flashbacks," Timur blurted out, much to Shuhrat's unease.

"Tim, what the hell?" Shuhrat half-yelled, half-whispered.

"I think he's right," Maxim agreed. It was the most genuine-sounding thing he'd heard from the man in a while. "She's got psychology experience, and I think that's more important than your personal past together."

"I agree," said Alexsandr. "It hurts to see my comrade...my _friend_ like this." There was a heartbroken look on his face as he gestured to his chest.

Shuhrat started to tap his foot nervously, looking at the table around him. He felt beads of sweat develop on his forehead at the pressure of his fellow Spetsnaz.

Suddenly, he felt a warm hand against his own. Surprisingly, it was Lera, reaching from across the table. "Shuhrat, I might not have known you for as long as these guys, but any friend of Alex's is a friend of mine. And I've learned from experience that life's toughest problems aren't solved with wishful thinking. You have go go out and do something about them," she said, a warm smile on her face.

Despite having the least experience with her, Lera's relative lack of personal bias made her response probably the most moving to him. For a short moment, his lips even curled up into a slight smile. His expression returned to normal, and he sighed in defeat. "Alright, I'll go," he muttered.

"I really do think this is for the best," Timur smiled, along with all of the others.

With that, a weight seemed to be lifted off of the table, and a tension released. The rest of breakfast was filled with not more awkward silence, but instead the laughing and chatter of five Russians drinking at an English cafe at nine in the morning.

"Did you bring me here just to get the others' opinions on this?" Shuhrat asked as Timur started the car to drive back to base.

"I might have," the sniper replied, a smug, shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

Shuhrat scoffed lightly, but then turned serious. "I'm trusting you on this," he said, a term he rarely used with anyone. Timur remained quiet, and basked in the success of his plan.


	2. 2

Shuhrat jerked awake, reflexively squinting at the sunlight peeking in from behind the blinds. The sweat and tears on his face indicated that he'd had another flashback in his sleep. He decided to keep quiet about it for now. The lack of snoring across the bathroom that connected his room with Timur's also let him know that he'd slept in, his watch reading 10:34. He continued to lie in bed, dreading what he knew he'd have to do. His pessimistic personality played out the situation in his head: anger, yelling, rejection. He knew she hadn't forgiven him completely. However, in spite of this, there was a small glint of hope in the back of his mind, that maybe, _just maybe,_ he'd be given a second chance.

It was this tiny thought in the back of his head that made him drag himself away from the comforting warmth of his bed.

 _If I don't do it now, I'll put it off forever,_ Shuhrat thought to himself as he made his way toward Siu's dorm.

* * *

Standing in front of her door, he raised his fist to knock, but hesitated as the same thoughts from earlier began to flood his mind. He lowered his fist dejectedly as a pained look spread across his face, his muscles tensing. Before he got the chance to turn around and leave, the door swung open, startling him.

"Oh, it's you," Siu said in a tone that was a mix of surprise and disappointment, her hand braced against her hip.

Shuhrat gulped audibly, almost cartoonishly, before speaking. His blue eyes darted around the room, looking at anything but the woman in front of him. "I, just, uh, had something I wanted to talk to you about. You have experience in psychology, right?" he asked, his voice slightly shaky, even though he already knew the answer. He had studied her mannerisms for a long time, and overheard her conversations.

"Yeah, come in," she said as if she was sighing. She gestured towards a chair in the corner of her room, which the Russian perched himself on awkwardly, as the tips of his ears were still burning at the fact that he was in Siu's room. She took her desk chair and turned it to face Shuhrat. She crossed one leg over the other, her relaxed attitude a complete opposite of the Russian's, who was nearly trembling in fear.

"So, what did you come here to talk about?" Siu said, in a _let's-get-this-over-with_ manner.

"I've been having these flashbacks…" Shuhrat struggled not to stutter.

"Flashbacks about what?"

Shuhrat hesitated, as he had left that part out intentionally. "Operation High Sun…"

Siu sighed again. "And what happens in these flashbacks?" She was visibly and audibly flustered at the mention of that mission.

"Exactly what happened on the mission...it usually starts with the blood, and ends with... _someone_ screaming at me." Shuhrat had left out the _someone_ that was yelling at him, but they both knew who it was.

For the third time, Siu sighed, but rather than in frustration, it was in something reminiscent of relief. "Shuhrat, these are just memories. They're coming back because you refuse to accept them."

"But in these dreams, I'm-"

"Well, it's true!" Siu shouted, not bothering to hear what the Russian had to say. "That hostage died because of _you!_ " Siu immediately cringed at the fact that she could say something so low, even to Shuhrat. She couldn't even bear to look him in the eyes.

Shuhrat felt hurt beyond words; beyond tears even. He simply looked at his own feet, seemingly accepting the supposed reality that had just been thrust upon him. "I'm sorry for taking up your time," he muttered quietly, standing up and heading for the door.

Siu opened her mouth to apologize, but the Russian had already gone.

* * *

There was a blank, yet blatantly melancholic expression on Shuhrat's face as he walked back to his dorm. He opened the door and sat on his bed, attempting to process what had just happened..

"Hey, Shuhrat," Timur called from his room. "How'd your conversation with Siu go?"

"Fine," Shuhrat lied. It was a lie that Timur usually would have seen through easily, but he was preoccupied with other things.

"Where are you headed off to?" Shuhrat noticed the other man struggling to put on a bow tie.

"I've got to go to some fancy dinner with Mike, Seamus and a few of the French," the sniper responded. "It's a couple of hours away, so we've got a hotel. I'll probably be back by ten o'clock tomorrow morning, but Alex and Max are just a couple of doors down if you need anything."

"Okay," Shuhrat said softly as Timur left the room.

* * *

Typically, it would be Shuhrat mindlessly staring at Siu from across the mess hall during dinner, but today, it was the reverse.

"Ugh, I really need to apologize to him…" she said softly to herself.

"I don't know what you think you'll get out of him," Dominic replied with a shrug. Siu hadn't even realized that he was sitting next to her. "Man's not one for emotion."

"No, he's more than that…" Siu's voice trailed off, shifting her gaze back to the Russian. Dominic noticed the tone of her voice, the look in her eyes…

"You like him, don't you?" he inferred. He wasn't social, which was mainly a byproduct of him being a general cunt, but he wasn't stupid. He was even rather good at reading social cues, which he used to others' annoyance. Somewhat like he was just doing to Siu.

"I do not!" Siu was quick to deny the man's assumption, attempting to hide the blush that was forming on her cheeks.

Dominic simply chuckled to himself, rubbing his scruffy beard as if he were in thought, which just added to his self-satisfied vibe. "Whatever you say," he said, getting up and leaving.

While she was quick to deny any accusations that she was, in any way, attracted to Shuhrat out loud, the German's comment made her think. Dominic was just trying to get a rise out of her, right? Or was he onto something?

* * *

The tempest of thoughts in her head continued to blow well into the night. At about half past midnight, Siu finally accepted that she had no hope of sleeping without some sort of aid. She took a bottle of melatonin pills out of her nightstand and went to the mess hall kitchen to get a glass of water.

Just as she opened a cupboard to retrieve a glass, she heard a familiar click from the direction of the Russians' dorm rooms. Suddenly, a horrible feeling began in the pit of her stomach. She started to walk to the source of the sound, finding Shuhrat's door slightly ajar. The terrible feeling worsened as she picked up her pace.

The next few moments seemed to go in slow motion.

Her heart pounded loudly.

The click of a safety.

Pounding.

The smooth sound of a slide being pulled back.

Pounding.

The loud clack as the slide is released.

Pounding.

Siu was sprinting when she pushed open Shuhrat's door, finding the sight she had been dreading so much. Shuhrat was sitting at the edge of his bed, holding his Makarov pistol, and its barrel was pressed against his temple.

"Shuhrat!" she screamed, running towards him, but it was too late. He had already had begun squeezing the trigger.

* * *

A soft click was heard as the slide locked in the rearmost position, indicating an empty magazine.

 _I...forgot to load it?_ was Shuhrat's last rational thought before the crushing realization of what he had just done, or more accurately, _tried_ to do, hit him. His vision blurred at the edges as he began to panic. _How did it come to this?_

Suddenly, he had the wind knocked out of him as Siu hit him, wrapping her arms around him tightly. The sudden physical contact gave him a little bit of sense back. She was crying intensely, a state that Shuhrat had never seen her in before, nor had he ever expected to. He could feel her frantic heartbeat against his own, and wanted nothing more than to comfort her, to make her feel like everything was alright, but it wasn't. It was so, so far from alright. In addition, given his current state of mind, he had no idea how.

"I'm so sorry, Shuhrat, I had no idea…" Siu managed to say in between sobs. Shuhrat still wasn't sure what to say, so rather than talking, he simply accepted Siu's warm embrace, leaning into her comforting presence.

"Siu, please...please don't leave…" was all he managed to say. Now it seemed like _he_ was about to break down.

"Shuhrat, I would never."


	3. 3

There was an unfamiliar but comfortable warmth in Shuhrat's bed as he awoke. The events of the previous night slowly pushed themselves to the front of his mind: Siu didn't want to leave him alone, so she insisted on staying with him for the night. She offered to sleep on the couch, but Shuhrat offered him her bed. Siu felt uncomfortable making him sleep on his own couch. It was this odd repetitive retaliation of polite gestures until they came to a compromise and slept together. _Wait, what?_

It almost seemed like a dream, prompting him to open his eyes to see if she was still there, and she was. Her presence, although expected, surprised him, and he jolted upright. It was still early, and fairly dark, but the tiny sliver of sunlight peeking over the horizon and through the window illuminated her body. There was a beauty about her that was different than her typical, refined self. The way her lips pursed slightly as she exhaled, her unkempt yet somehow flawless hair, the way that form-fitting tank top of hers rode slightly up her midriff…

 _Christ, Shuhrat, mind out of the gutter,_ he thought to himself, shaking his head before sliding the blanket over her. She unconsciously responded by sinking deeper into the warmth of the bed.

As quietly as he could, he slipped out of bed and changed into his typical daily attire, which consisted of cargo pants and an olive green hooded sweater, sporting the Spetsnaz insignia on one shoulder and the Russian flag on the other. He glanced back to the woman in his bed who, to his surprise, had opened one eye and was smiling at him.

"Good morning," she said in a voice that was softer and lower than he was used to hearing. She slowly sat up, and as the covers fell off of her, he saw that one of her shirt's straps had fallen off of her shoulder, now resting against her upper arm. He had to look in an entirely different direction to avoid staring.  
"M-morning, Siu," he stuttered nervously.

Questioning his strange behavior, she looked down at herself, stifling a laugh as she tugged her clothes back into place. _He's acting like a little schoolchild._

"Hey...can we keep this between us?" Shuhrat said quietly.

Siu smirked. "What, was it _that_ bad?" It was that comment that made her aware of her own tone, and Dominic's words. She was shocked and nearly made a quasi-appalled expression at the fact that not only was she attracted to Shuhrat, but that Dominic was _right_ about it. She shuddered at his intuition, wondering how much else he knew about everyone.

Siu was snapped out of her thoughts when the Russian spoke. "No, I meant about...last night." He was still a deep shade of crimson from her joke. Siu's expression darkened considerably as she realized what he was talking about. She truly wanted the best for Shuhrat, which most likely meant talking to someone, but she didn't know how he'd react if she told someone else.

"Yeah, sure," Siu said, albeit after some hesitation. "But the fact that I won't tell anyone else doesn't mean we aren't doing something about this."

"What do you mean?" Shuhrat asked. He sounded worried, as if he was a hospital patient who was told he was going to be used for some 'experimental' treatment.

"I want you to stay with me until I feel comfortable," Siu said sternly, knowing the Russian would naturally oppose. "I don't…" She paused as what Dominic had said pushed itself to the front of her mind. She pushed it back, accepting it. "I don't want to lose you."

Shuhrat's entire demeanor softened upon hearing what Siu said, who now looked like she was about to break into tears. He couldn't help but feel like this was all his fault.

"Okay," Shuhrat complied calmly, mainly because he couldn't bear to deny her.

Siu replied with a smile. "Thank you," she said softly. She stood up from the bed and walked over to him, holding him tightly, a gesture that he gladly returned. They stood in silence like that for quite some time, simply happy with each other's company.

"I think I'm going to go to the mess hall and get some food," Shuhrat said, pulling away. "Do you want to come?"

"No, I think I'm heading back to my dorm and see how I can fit you in there." The mere mention of the idea made Shuhrat anxious, but he tried to keep cool for Siu's sake.

They exchanged curt goodbyes as each went their separate ways, although Shuhrat watched the woman walk away for a few seconds before eventually turning and heading to the mess hall.

He grabbed the leftover blinis he'd made a couple days before and tossed them in the microwave before sitting down with the other few who didn't sleep in. Today, that was Dominic, Jordan, and a very tired-looking Miles, who was undoubtedly woken up by his FBI SWAT colleague.

"So, seems like Siu did a lot more than apologize last night, hmm?" Dominic grinned.

"What are you talking about?" Shuhrat was genuinely confused.

"Oh, come on, man," Jordan said, much louder than he should have. "We all saw Siu walking out of your room. Even I'm not stupid enough to ignore the obvious."

"It's not-"

"I'm gonna keep it real with you, Russkie," Jordan interrupted. "You're settling. I wouldn't imagine her to be that fun."

Even though it was none of his business, and he wouldn't know anyway, something about Jordan's statement infuriated him. "You _what?_ " His tone was aggressive, but Jordan didn't pick up on it.

"Well, I always kinda thought she had a stick up her aaaaa..." He stopped talking as all his muscles tensed up. Shuhrat could tell by Miles' glare that something very, very painful was happening to him under the table.

"I've talked with Siu. She's a lot more mature than _some_ of the others around here," Miles said while looking at his teammate, who was nearly slumped over the table. "I think you picked yourself up a very nice girl." His smile was genuine.

"I hate to spoil whatever fun you guys are having, but it's not like that." Shuhrat said. Even if it _was_ like that, Shuhrat wouldn't go around talking about it to people. He'd never do that to her.

"Well, even if it isn't, just know that if you _wanted_ it to be like that, it very well could be," Dominic said cryptically, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other. _What the hell does he-_

Shuhrat's thoughts were cut off as someone else entered the hall. It was Jack, looking just as tired as Miles. Notably, he was wearing his signature sunglasses.

"Dude, what's with the shades? Sun's barely up."

"Fluorescent lights hurt my eyes," Jack groaned, clearly hungover.

"I take it things didn't go well with Eliza last night, huh?" Miles deduced.

"She's just so oblivious. I don't know what to do. I could just straight-up ask her 'Will you go out with me?' and she _still_ wouldn't get it." Jack shook his head exasperatedly.

"Don't worry, she'll come around eventually," Miles patted his back assuringly.

Shuhrat finally eased a little, happy for a change of subject, and enjoyed watching the Americans' friendly banter. He looked at the bearded German across the table and wondered... _did_ he want it to be that way?


	4. 4

Unbeknownst to Shuhrat, Siu was having her own set of problems. When she got back to her own dorm room, she was greeted by Eliza, Monika, and Grace, with Monika at Siu's desk working on her Spectre, Eliza sprawled out on the bed, and Grace sitting on the couch playing a game of some sort on her tablet.

"You guys better have a damn good reason for inviting yourselves into my room." As much as she hated it, it wasn't uncommon for her friends to enter her room without permission, but when she wasn't there? Something's definitely up.

"Oh, we were just waiting," Grace said nonchalantly, as if Siu knew what she was talking about.

"Waiting for what?"

"Waiting for you to get back."

"Get back from _where_?" Siu was beginning to get frustrated.

"Shuhrat's, you dummy." Grace was talking like she was making middle school gossip, and if was off-putting.

"How did you know about that?" Siu started to feel nervous.

"We heard your voices inside his dorm last night," Eliza finally spoke up.

Siu froze, terrified. "You can't tell _anyone_ about that!" Her voice was almost a yell, but not quite.

Grace ignored her command and kept going. "So, how was he?"

"Oh, no, no, it's not like that." Siu waved her hand dismissively.

"If it's 'not like that', then why were you in his room last night dressed like _that_?" Grace gestured to the shorter woman's clothing.

"I just was just getting a glass of water and not expecting to see him," Siu answered truthfully.

"Then what made you go into his room in the first place?" Eliza asked.

"He was-" Siu stopped cold as she thought back to what happened, and her promise to Shuhrat. There was no excuse, nothing she could say to get these women off of her. She was backed into a corner. She wondered how much they had heard of the past night's conversation, if anything at all.

"Get out," she quietly grumbled.

"What?" Eliza pretended she didn't hear her.

"Get out! All of you!" Siu screamed as she finally lost her temper. The other three were surprised at Siu's harsh tone, but didn't entirely take her seriously. Grace and Eliza giggled as they walked out, but Monika stood in the doorway after the other two had gone.

"I'm sorry about...them."

Siu's expression and posture softened a little bit, as she knew that Monika was most likely dragged here by the other two. "I don't know how you put up with them," she said, running a hand through her hair. Monika replied with a shrug.

After Monika left, Siu shut her door, tossing herself onto her bed, which was still warm from Eliza laying on it. However, before she had any time to herself, Mike's voice could be heard over the intercom.

"All operators must report to the mess hall immediately. I repeat: all operators must report to the mess hall immediately."

* * *

For the seasoned veterans on the team, that could only mean one thing: White Masks. Sure enough, when Siu got to the mess hall, where most of the others had already gathered, Baker had an image projected onto the massive concrete wall. It was an overhead image of a club, apparently in Germany, based off of the police cars, and was just about to begin his speech.

"Alright, looks like everyone's just about here. Good. Now, as I'm sure many of you have already deduced, we've received reports of White Mask activity in Hannover. From what the local police and BPOL have already found out, they're using this as a warehouse for chemical weapons storage. It is lightly manned, and should be a relatively easy target. Don't get cocky, though." A few chuckles were heard around the room, despite Mike being dead serious. "The compound they've been storing in this 'warehouse' of theirs is called Compound Z8, which I'm sure many of you, particularly my SAS comrades, are familiar with." James waved from the corner of the room, resulting in a roll of the eyes from Baker. "Now, for those of you who will be chosen to participate in the clearing of this clubhouse. Team one will consist of Montagne, Ash, and Zofia. Team two will consist of Fuze and Ying. Team three will consist of Kapkan, Tachanka and Castle. Glaz will provide overwatch and Doc will be waiting with a team of paramedics in a separate APC to provide medical attention, should anyone need it. Those operators are to be packed and ready in 15 minutes. All others are to resume with their daily activities. You are dismissed."

* * *

The locker rooms were filled with various noises; the doing and undoing of fasteners, clicks of safeties and bolt catches, and the mechanicals sounds of slides and charging handles kept the area from silence. Siu and Shuhrat said no words, but shared a brief glance as they took a pause from readying themselves and their equipment. There was an odd tension as they both wanted to speak, but neither did. Once all of the operators were prepared, at least physically, they boarded the plane.

* * *

On the flight to Hannover, Mike provided a more detailed briefing to each of the teams. "Alright, team one." Eliza, Zofia and Gilles all nodded their heads. "You will enter the clubhouse on the top floor. Montagne will act as the team's pointman, and Ash and Zofia will use their respective launchers to breach and clear each room. Once you have cleared every room of hostiles, you will sweep back up towards your insertion point. Everything clear?" The three in question nodded again affirmatively. "Good." Baker's attention shifted to Alexsandr, Maxim and Miles. "Team three. If things go to shit and for whatever reason, we have to fall back, you are responsible for the containment of hostiles in the building. Castle will block off all entries, which Maxim will then trap, in case they have breaching devices. Tachanka will provide suppressive fire to cover team one's exit. Any questions from you?" All three operators shook their heads. "Good. Team three dismissed. Now, to team two. Your job is relatively simple; Fuze will plant his cluster charges in the garage at the southernmost end of the building. Ying will provide assistance in case hostiles are encountered." Siu and Shuhrat both nodded, assuming that was the end of their briefing, but Mike spoke once more. "Now, Shuhrat, in order to prevent the excessive spread of Compound Z8 in the case of an accidental detonation, we've modified your cluster charges slightly to reduce their explosive power. I trust that you will take this change into account when you use them. If there are no further questions, you are dismissed." Siu nodded, resulting in Mike's retreat to his seat in the back of the plane, but Shuhrat had his doubts. He'd never let anyone change his Matryoshka, and he was slightly skeptical of the change, given that nobody had ever had access to it before. Regardless, he trusted in his teammates' work, and devoted the rest of the time to preparing himself mentally for the mission ahead.


End file.
